


August

by paintedpineapple



Series: New Beginnings [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of past IKEA drama, Moving, OFC - Freeform, Otabek is dealing with stuff, Viktor is a child, Yuri tries hard to make is look like he's not trying, Yuuri loves him anyway, binge watching, law and order svu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 04:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13539801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedpineapple/pseuds/paintedpineapple
Summary: The events of August. Includes Moving Day, Viktor's difficult initial relationship with Puma Tiger Scorpion, Yuuri and Yuri bonding and, foreboding hints of future difficulties for our hero from Kazakhstan. (Don't worry, I live for happy endings!) Each chapter is written as a one shot that falls within the same universe/arc. Enjoy!---Come for domestic fluff, adorableness, Yurio's sassy attitude and personal growth! This is part of a series of one-shots all set within the same verse so be sure to stay tuned for the next installment!





	August

**Author's Note:**

> _Thank you for coming to take a chance on this little fic! It's the second installment of a collection of YoI one shots all set within the same verse. I hope you enjoy! Please leave comments and kudos if you like; I live for them!_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Moving day comes and brings the simple joys of family for Yuri, but a shadow of precariousness for a certain someone in Kazakhstan._
> 
>  
> 
> _**Disclaimer- Yuri on Ice!!! does not belong to me (unfortunately) but it lives in my heart, all the same.**_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> **Notes-**  
>   
> 
>    
>  _ **Babushka** \- Russian for grandmother or granny._
> 
>  
> 
>    
>  _ **Spasibo** \- Russian for "Thank you."_
> 
>  
> 
>    
>  _ **Vetchina i ananas** \- Russian for ham and pineapple (Don't @ me. You can bet your sweet ass that this would be Yurio's choice of pizza toppings. Sweet and salty just like his capricious attitude. Also called "The Devil's Pizza" so do with that what you will.)_
> 
>  
> 
>    
>  _ **Dedushka** \- Russian for Grandpa_

\---------------------------------------------

“Hey, watch it! You’re gonna scuff the side all up!” Yuri bellowed, muscles straining to keep his end of the headboard lifted on the stairwell.  
Georgi rolled his eyes. 

“Well, if you didn't twist it that way it wouldn't bump on the wall! Why didn't you just get a new lighter bed frame? You could’ve gone to IKEA! It would've been cheap! This thing is so much heavier than it looked!”

“Hey, that's the quality of real wood you uncivilized monster! And I couldn't get a new one cause I couldn't move it back here myself. Katsudon and Viktor wouldn't go. Something stupid about IKEA almost destroying their marriage or whatever.”

“But… they’re not even married yet,” Georgi replied with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, when you figure that whole situation out you let me know. Or, actually, don't. They're gross. And pick up your end; it's slipping!” Yuri badgered, trying to get a better grip as they hoisted the simple oak headboard up to the next landing. 

It was for a queen size bed because that was what Yuri had begged for when he moved to Lilia’s, never anticipating that he would one day have to move it. It had two short posts on either end with a half circle arch of solid wood joining them in the middle. The wood, itself, was heavy but the shape made holding it awkward, as well. If only Viktor wasn't such a pushover they could have gotten a moving company to do it but Katsudon had suggested renting a truck and moving everything themselves to save money and for some reason the old man had found the idea charming. So here they were trying to pull the headboard up the stairs because it wouldn't fit in the little elevator no matter how hard they had tried due to the shape. Why anyone would build a fancy apartment building with such a small elevator was beyond Yuri. 

“How much stuff was there left in the truck?” Georgi asked as he tried to navigate the corner of the landing. 

He had volunteered to help Yuri move his things when Viktor had asked because Viktor had helped when he was moving into his new apartment two years ago. Mila would have probably helped as well if she hadn’t had training with Yakov today. So far it had just been a few boxes which weren’t very heavy and a small bookcase. Georgi knew that Yuri had several big boxes packed with clothes at the back of the truck that would be awkward to move, and a box packed with trophies. Viktor and Yuuri had borrowed a small cart from the building’s maintenance man and had been taking the boxes up the elevator. He had lost the draw when it came to wrestling the bed frame up the stairs. The mattress and box spring had taken all four of them to push up the stairs (only after Viktor had wasted fifteen minutes insisting that he could jam them into the elevator to no avail). The headboard was the last part of the bed though, so if they could get it up there, they’d be golden.  
Yuri seemed to be doing a mental rundown of what else could be left in the truck as well. When it seemed as though he’d accounted for everything he nodded.

“I think it’s just the clothes left and the standing lamp. Katsudon and the old man should have gotten everything else up there by now. If they didn’t stop to take make-out breaks, anyway,” he replied, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought as they hefted the headboard up another step.

“You know, Yura, one day you might regret giving them such a hard time about their relationship,” Georgi said with as much of a smile as he could manage while pushing the headboard. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Yuri sniped back. 

“Nothing. Just someday you might be the one taking make-out breaks and you'll have earned any teasing that comes your way.”

“Yeah, right. I’m not ever gonna be like that. Besides, you're only sticking up for them cause you're all gross in love with Polina.”

“If you say so,” Georgi replied with a knowing smile. 

After only a bit more struggle they finally got the headboard up to the apartment. They were just carrying it on through the apartment door and down the short hallway when they heard Yuuri scolding Viktor in hushed tones. 

“Hey, they’re coming in, behave yourself.”

“But you said if we got those last two boxes I could-”

“I know what I said. Later. Hands to yourself.”

Yuri rolled his eyes as they rounded the corner with the headboard. 

“We can hear you you know! I told you they were being gross!” he grumbled. 

“You know Yura, one day you might not think it's so ‘gross’,” Viktor replied with a smirk as he leaned against the counter between the kitchen and living room. Georgi smiled. 

“That's what I just told him.”

Yuri scowled. 

“And I told you- that's never gonna happen!”

Yuuri watched the exchange with a soft frown but a devilish glint in his eyes. 

“Huh. That's too bad. I can think of at least one person who would probably be disappointed to hear that,” he replied. 

“What? What are you talking about?” Yuri asked, still with a frown but interest clearly piqued. Georgi’s eyes suddenly lit up and he smiled. 

“That’s right. They might be pretty heartbroken to find that out. Still, I guess it’s for the best. Yuri is a bit young for them, isn't he?”

“Young for what!? Who are you talking about!?” Yuri fumed.

“Oh, I don't know about that,” Yuuri responded. “There's a greater difference between Viktor and I.”

Georgi nodded thoughtfully. He rested his elbows on the headboard balanced on the floor between Yuri and himself. 

“That's true. I guess it just seems greater because Yuri’s only sixteen.”

“What are you talking about!? Who is older than me!? What's going on!?” Yuri shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Actually I'm in the dark here, too. Who are you talking about?” Viktor asked with a confused frown. 

Yuuri gave him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, babe, can't tell you,” he replied with a shrug. “Don't want to spoil anything until they've worked things out for themselves. I'm actually kind of surprised you don't know, though.”

“Wait, can't you just tell me later?” Viktor asked, curiosity already burning away at him. 

Yuuri shook his head. 

“Like I said- sorry. I love you but you're a complete meddler. I have a hunch there’s something there but I don’t think it’s quite surfaced yet and if you don't know, I'm not telling.”

“What!? Not fair, Yuuri! What about spousal privilege?” Viktor moped.

“Okay, first you need to take a break from SVU. Second, that’s not even what that means and third, we're not married yet so it doesn't even apply,” Yuuri replied with a look that clearly stated he  
wouldn't be budging on the subject. 

“Hello!? Old people! Who cares about spouse-whatever?! This is about me! Who are you talking about!?” Yuri shouted, trying to refocus things to the point at hand. 

Georgi tried to stifle a laugh at Yuri’s obvious frustration but failed miserably.

“Don’t worry Yura, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.” 

“Ugh, you’re all the worst!” Help me move the headboard if you’re all just going to stand here being useless.”

Yuuri and Georgi laughed but helped heft the headboard into the bedroom while Viktor trailed after visibly sulking. After another half hour of shuffling they had the bed all put together and the boxes and standing lamp arranged in the room in a pile of more or less organized chaos so Yuri could start putting his things away. He was still grumbling about Yuuri and Georgi gossiping like old babushkas as he unceremoniously shoved them all out for some “goddamn peace and quiet.” 

“Yuri,” Yuuri called through the closed door, “What do you say to Georgi for helping you?”

“ _Spasibo_ ,” Yuri muttered grouchily, barely audible through the door.” 

Yuri turned to Georgi and shrugged apologetically. 

“Teenagers,” he offered by way of reply. “We were actually going to get pizza for dinner tonight and maybe watch a movie. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

Georgi smiled at the offer.

“Maybe some other time? I promised Polina I would take her out tonight. Do you want me to drop the truck back off at the rental place, though?”

“No, that’s alright; thank you, though. Viktor and I have to go out for the pizza anyway. We can take care of it on the way. Have fun tonight!”

Yuuri walked Georgi to the door making small talk. He hadn’t anticipated, when he had made the decision to relocate to Russia, that he would get on so well with the rest of the Russian team but they had all become fast friends. Yuri was his usual prickly teenage self but, Mila and Georgi had been more than welcoming and Yuuri had found he truly enjoyed their company. Mila was an excellent drinking companion and Georgi had been invaluable in helping Yuuri figure out the mass transit system and navigating the city, in general, when he first arrived. 

Put simply, he was incredibly thankful for their friendship. He knew sometimes he had a hard time opening up to others and making friends but in the last year the circle of those he considered friends within the skating community had expanded dramatically and he would often wake up to messages in their group text or to find he had been tagged in a photo on Instagram. A few of them had even added him on Steam and they would occasionally make time to game together. Even in this past off-season, which had been hectic because of the move, they had all managed to get together in Hastesu to work together on Viktor’s pet project, Onsen on Ice. 

It had been a great time and a resounding success even despite nearly everyone getting fantastically drunk the night before and an unfortunate misunderstanding arising between himself and Viktor which had resulted in the pair of them sitting atop Hasetsu Castle in the nude. Yuuri smiled at the memory as he wished Georgi a good evening and thanked him for all his help. It was only after Georgi had left that Yuuri realized that Viktor had been suspiciously missing at the door to see off their friend. He walked into the living room, intent on telling him off for being rude, only to find him draped over the back of the couch moping. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow at what was a truly theatrical display of melancholy on Viktor’s part. 

“Papa Yuuri is keeping secrets from Papa Viktor,” Viktor replied with a miserable sigh. 

“Oh, for the love of...Is this about Yuri’s possible admirer?”

“Maybe,” Viktor mumbled into the back of the couch.

“I told you- it’s only a hunch. It might not even be anything. And anyway, you and I both know that if I told you you would never be able to keep it to yourself.”

“That’s not true! I’m an excellent secret keeper! I haven’t told anyone about Mila and Valentin the hockey play-” Viktor stopped mid-sentence. Eyes wide, he slapped a hand over his mouth. 

Yuuri cocked an eyebrow and set his hands at his hips.

“Exactly my point.”

“Okay, that was just one thing, though! It was an accident! Please Yuuri, you have to tell me! Curiosity will waste me away!”

“I seriously doubt that. Anyway, if you’re going to mope you can stay here and tidy up. Makkachin and I will take the truck back and get the pizza.”

“I never should have helped you get your Russian license. My own good deed turned against me! The ultimate betrayal!” Viktor motioned with his arms wildly to emphasize his point but only succeeded in losing his balance on the back of the couch and falling onto the seat. Yuuri calmly walked around the side of the couch and brushed Viktor’s hair back from his eyes as he leaned in.

“I love you even though you’re being impossible right now,” he said with a kiss to Viktor’s forehead. Viktor crossed his arms petulantly as Yuuri turned around and walked to Yuri’s door.

“Yurio, what toppings do you want on your pizza?” he called through the still closed door. 

“ _Vetchina i ananas_!”

“English, please!”

“Ham and pineapple!” Yuri called back and evidently decided he was done with the conversation, such as it was, because loud rock music started filtering through the door. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t let him turn it up so loud it disturbs the neighbors,” Yuuri addressed to the back of the couch. 

A hand shot up and waved him off.

“And don’t forget to tidy up.”

Another wave. Lovely. The silent treatment. 

“Love you, too!” Yuuri called as he released Makkachin and Potya from his and Viktor’s bedroom where they had been quarantined to keep them from slipping out the door during the moving process. Luckily they seemed to get along alright, though Yuuri had still had to coax Potya down from the top of the wardrobe. Yuuri clipped Makka’s leash on and they headed out of the apartment, down the hall, and out into the quickly approaching twilight. As they made their way to the truck Yuuri thought about Viktor huffing on the couch.

He knew he wasn’t really mad. He just detested being left out of things, especially if there was room for potential meddling and matchmaking. Yuuri had initially been surprised Viktor hadn’t picked up on the same little hints he had but in retrospect it made sense. Yuri’s exhibition skate had been pretty telling but in Viktor’s mind Yuri was still a little kid. He had told Yuri off for the last minute change and the suggestive nature of the program, stating that it was absolutely not appropriate for someone his age which had resulted in quite the argument. However, Viktor had completely failed to realize that rooted in that suggestive program might have been a hint of something yet to come, something it would seem even the individuals skating the program had been oblivious to. Yuuri smiled to himself as he loaded Makka into the cab of the truck. Sometimes Viktor and Yuri really and truly deserved each other. 

\---

Viktor sat in what he felt was stoic silence as Yuuri left with Makka. Honestly. How disloyal. Viktor could keep a secret. Okay, so maybe that one little thing about Mila’s new boyfriend had kind of sort of slipped out but was it really that big of a deal? People would figure it out eventually anyway, and really it was only a secret right now to keep the sports press from jumping on it and because Mila didn’t want a lecture from Yakov about “staying focused.” One little secret. Well...and he maybe had let slip to Georgi that Polina, their ballerina friend liked him but hadn’t that turned out well? They were together and happy so it was a good thing, really! Yuuri didn’t know what he was talking about. 

\---  
Yuri had managed to get all of his clothes hung in the closet or stuffed in his drawers (no small feat) and his bed made. He surveyed the room noting that his leopard print bedspread went well with the newly purple walls. He had a poster from a rock show he and Otabek had gone to see in the off season and a smaller flyer for one of Otabek’s DJ gigs to hang up. There was also a poster from this past year’s GPF and some cool pictures of big cats he had taken at a wildlife park, as well as some photos of himself with his grandpa and a few with some of the other skaters he had to put up but those could wait. He and Otabek usually Facetimed around 6pm Russian time unless they were both up late and couldn’t sleep. 

He wanted to make sure that he had the rock show poster and the DJ flyer up before the call so Otabek could see how they looked in his new room. Katsudon had gotten some sticky tac for him to hang things up with but he realized, with a groan, that he didn’t know where it was. He’d just have to go out and root around for it until they got back with the pizza. When he opened the door the first thing he noticed was Potya perched on the back of the couch looking at him accusatorily. He felt bad for locking her up in Katsudon and the Old Man’s bedroom but it was better than her slipping out the door or getting trampled in the moving process. She would just have to get over it. The second thing he noticed was The Old Man, himself, halfheartedly tidying up the living room. 

“I thought you went to get pizza.” 

“Your papa and I are having a disagreement at the moment. I decided to stay here with you.”

“You mean Katsudon told you you couldn’t come and made you clean up?”

“Semantics. Anyway, I’m nearly finished. Did you get your things all put away already?”

“Not yet. I need the sticky tac. Then Otabek’s gonna call. I’ll do the rest tomorrow.”

“Try the junk drawer in the kitchen. You know...if you want we could watch tv until Yuuri gets back. I have all the seasons of SVU.”

Yuri scrunched up his nose in disgust as he walked back from the kitchen with the tac. 

“Ew, no. I don’t wanna watch your lame old people show. Anyway, I thought Katsudon said you’re not allowed to watch that anymore.”

“It’s not an ‘old people show’! It’s really good I’ll have you know! And he didn’t say I couldn’t, exactly. It was more of a suggestion. Besides, I’m a grown adult man! I can do what I want!” 

“Sure you can,” Yuri replied in a clearly disbelieving tone before wandering back to his room and shutting the door. Viktor rolled his eyes. Teenagers. 

\---

Yuri had just finished putting up the flyer when his laptop started chiming, alerting him to Otabek’s call. He quickly plopped down on the bed on his stomach and hit accept. In a minute Otabek’s face filled the screen and Yuri smiled to see they were lying in nearly the same position on their respective beds. 

“Hey scrub, how’s Kazakhstan?”

“Yura, the last time we played Overwatch, my team beat your ass.”

“That was a fucking fluke and you know it!”

“Whatever,” Otabek smiled, “How are you? How’s the new room? Cool posters by the way.”

Yuri felt a small swell of happiness. Otabek had noticed the posters. He quickly tried to school his features into a mask of indifference.

“I mean, I guess it’s ok. The Old Man and Katsudon are being annoying already but whatever, that’s pretty normal. All my stuff is here now, so at least that part’s done.”

“How are they being annoying?” 

“You know, just their normal gross selves. Except now Viktor’s all mopey and they’re having a ‘disagreement’ and now he wants me to watch some show with him until Katsudon gets back with the pizza.”

“Oh, it’s nothing serious is it? The disagreement, I mean?”

Yuri smiled. Typical Beka, always concerned for others, always quietly trying to help. He had told Otabek about his new living situation almost as soon as he had found out and of course Beka had tried to be reasonable and mature about the whole thing. Yuri could tell that Otabek had tremendous respect for Viktor and Yuuri but he still listened to Yuri complain about them when he needed to. Not for the first time, Yuri was reminded of how lucky he was to have found a friend like Otabek.

“No, it’s not a big deal. Viktor’s just being dramatic or whatever. It’s about me actually.”

Otabek quirked an eyebrow.

“Yura, what did you do?”

“What!? I didn’t do anything!” Yuri huffed at Otabek’s skeptical expression. “Really! This time I actually didn’t do anything. It’s Katsudon’s fault. He and Georgi were ribbing me cause they’re asshats and he said some stupid shit about thinking he knows someone who likes me but then he wouldn’t tell Viktor who it is and now the old man is moping.”

“What’s wrong about someone liking you? Lots of people like you.”

“No, I mean like, like-liking me.”

Yuri expected that Beka would get in a laugh at his expense and they would move on but instead Beka’s face took on a strange look as though he were suddenly feeling a bit ill. 

“Dude, you okay? You look like someone kicked your motorcycle,” Yuri replied, trying to bring his friend back to the conversation.

“What? No. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. He...did he say who he thought it was? That liked you, I mean?”

“Huh? No, he didn’t say. He wouldn’t tell me or Viktor. I guess it’s some joke he and Georgi are in on together. They’re, like, friends now or whatever. They’re probably messing with me.”

“Yeah..I guess. Probably.”

“Anyway, even if someone did like me, I’ve got skating and shit to do, so you know how it is.”

“Yeah…”

“Beka, you sure you’re ok? Is something going on over there?”

“What? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I dunno, you’re being all weird and brooding. Like, more than normal.”

“Ha-ha, douchebag. Everything’s fine. Really, Yura, it’s fine. Anyway what did Viktor want to watch with you?”

“What?”

“You said he wanted to watch something with you. What was it?”

“Oh, it’s some American show he likes. He bought all the seasons. SVU, I think?”

On screen Yuri could see Otabek snap to attention as his eyes went wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

“What, is it, like, shitty or something?”

“Yura. Are you serious? It’s like the best show maybe ever. Okay, maybe not as good as like, Family Guy, or The Walking Dead, or Game of Thrones but still really good.”

“Wait a minute. So you’re gonna tell me that Viktor- Viktor- likes a show that’s almost as good as The Walking Dead? I call bullshit.”

“Yura. Would I lie to you? It’s really good. Plus there’s a ton of seasons. I can’t believe Viktor has them all. You’re really lucky,” Otabek replied with a wistful expression.

Yuri took a moment to consider. Otabek generally had good taste in these sorts of things. He would often send Yuri recommendations for songs and bands he should check out and they liked almost all the same movies. Some they could even quote back to each other. If Otabek said the show was good...well, it might be all right. Even if Viktor liked it, too. 

“Well, if it’s supposed to be that good maybe I’ll give it a try,” he replied with a small smile. 

“You should. You have to let me know how you like it,” Otabek responded with a small smile of his own. 

“Yeah, I will. Anyway, you never said, how are things with you?”

Yuri could swear he saw Otabek’s face cloud over for a second but just as fast it cleared and he was answering.

“Things are fine. Same old, same old.”

Yuri cocked a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You sure about that? Is something going on?”

“No, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. Just practicing hard and stuff. You know.” 

“Yeah, I guess. You know, if something were going on you could tell me, right?”

“I know, Yura. Thanks. But everything’s okay. I’m just tired I guess. I should actually get to bed, you know, practice in the morning and everything.” 

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll let you know about that show then. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Yura,” Otabek said with a small wave at the camera.

“Yeah, goodnight,” Yuri replied before they signed off.

He slowly closed the laptop and rolled over on his bed looking up at the ceiling. Otabek wouldn’t hide something from him, would he? They were friends, after all. He told Otabek everything, he had to know it was a two-way street, right? Yuri frowned. The problem with Otabek was that he could be so damn stoic. Yuri had found out quickly after they had become friends, that while he, personally, would go off instantly about anything that annoyed him, Otabek was often the exact opposite. If something was bothering him he would sit on it for, sometimes, a great while before addressing it. It wasn’t that he was a pushover- far from it. He was quick to defend his friends in times of trouble and had the sort of presence that easily discouraged people from trying to screw with him. Yuri had heard stories about clubs Otabek had DJed in that got rowdy and that he had, on a couple of occasions, more than held his own in a fight. 

In fact, ironically enough, the only people who seemed to scare Otabek even a little were Viktor, Yuuri, Yakov, and Lilia. Lilia, Yuri could understand, she was terrifying even when you were on her good side. The other three, however, Yuri found laughable. Otabek had once stammered out something about Yuri not understanding because he was too close to them after they had been soundly lectured about their exhibition skate this past season but beyond that, as far as Yuri knew, Otabek feared basically nothing. 

So it was not fear, or an inability to stand up for himself, really that kept Otabek silent when something bothered him. It was more like he was taking time to analyze the situation. Where Yuri was hot-headed and quick to react, Otabek was quiet and brooding. Almost always, it was a question of emotions. Otabek kept so much under the surface, so when something troubled him he considered it carefully, before reacting emotionally. The problem was that it was difficult to help someone who kept so much bottled up and by the time he was finally ready to talk about it, the problem had often become more of an issue simply because he had avoided addressing it. 

Yuri remembered how after the last GPF Otabek had said nothing of his losing the bronze to JJ. They had done the exhibition skate, gone to the gala, Otabek had even DJed a bit in Barcelona. It wasn’t until a few weeks later, they had been Facetiming and Yuri had noticed Otabek’s bruised knuckles. It had taken a while to wheedle it out of him but it had turned out that he had punched a wall in frustration, not because he was mad at JJ or the judges, but because he was mad at himself. All he would say was that he should have skated better, and it hit Yuri how hard it must be, how much pressure he must be feeling shouldering the weight of his country’s hopes and expectations almost entirely on his own. He hoped this was not one of those situations but he knew that if it was it would do no good pushing for information. That might have worked if they were geographically much closer but separated by kilometers and time zones, Otabek could easily just avoid him until he was ready to talk and chalk it up to a busy practice schedule.

Maybe it was nothing. 

Maybe Otabek was just tired. 

Yuri fervently hoped so as he gathered up his pride and went to watch tv with Viktor. 

\---  
Several thousand miles away, laying wide awake in his bed, Otabek Altin stared at his ceiling. He tried not to think about someone maybe liking Yuri. He tried not to think about why the idea seemed to claw at his insides. He tried not to think about his most recent setback and his uncertain upcoming season. He tried not to think about the decision he would need to make very soon and how the country he loved so much and worked so hard to make proud would react. He tried, but he did not succeed. 

\---  
Yuri took a deep breath. With any luck he could finesse his way through this situation without losing face. He peeked around his bedroom door to be greeted by the soft glow of the tv. A woman with short brown hair appeared to be interrogating a less than cooperative man on screen, while another man, Yuri guessed he was another cop, got up and slammed his fist down on the table. Damn.  
Yuri couldn’t see Viktor which probably meant he was lounging on the couch, obscured from Yuri’s view. 

He steeled his resolve. He could do this. He just had to play his cards right. 

He knocked, flat-handed, on the wall startling Viktor, who was, sure enough, sprawled on the couch on his back. When he stepped around the couch, Yuri rolled his eyes. Viktor Nikiforov, five time GPF gold medalist, men’s figure skating World Champion, Olympian, and living legend was watching an American police procedural drama in just a pair of joggers with a can of Pringles at his side and two chips stuck in his mouth like a duck bill. 

“I only wish all the people who fawn over you at press conferences and photo shoots could see you like this. You’re a disgrace to Russia,” Yuri said with well-feigned disgust. 

Viktor paused the show, chewed and swallowed his chips and turned to Yuri with a fond smile. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your sunny disposition, Yurachka?” 

Now was his moment. He had to play it cool.

“Where is Katsudon? Pizza is taking forever.”

“He was taking the truck back to the depot first. It might be a little bit longer. You could still watch Law and Order with me…”

Yuri kept a scowl on his face. This was the moment of truth. He had to be aloof but leave room for rebuttal. Be cool, be cool.

“No way. It looks lame. What’s so great about some dumb cop show, anyway?”

There. The hook was baited. C’mon Viktor, take the bait…

“Yurio, how do you know you don’t like it if you don’t try it once? It’s really good! Come sit down and watch a little. You can have some Pringles! We can have some father-son bonding time!”

Result! Yuri silently congratulated himself on his flawless subterfuge of indifference. 

Out loud he replied, “Fine, but you’re not my dad and my name’s not Yurio,” before pushing Viktor’s legs aside and plopping down next to him on the couch. 

As Viktor re-started the show from the beginning, Yuri basked in the glow of success. It was one of his finest performances to date.  
\---

Viktor was just thinking how pleased he was with how cunningly he had managed to coax Yuri into watching tv with him when he heard the apartment door open as Yuuri called out that he was home. In an instant, Makkachin had bounded down the hall, into the living room and on to the couch, amid Yuri’s half-hearted protests. Viktor was trying to decide if he was still “mad” at being kept out of the gossip loop when Yuuri appeared holding two pizza boxes.

“Food’s here, get it while it’s hot. Oh, I forgot, you’re in silent protest right now. Well, I guess it's just more pizza for Yuri and I,” he called cheekily from the kitchen.

“Ha ha,” Viktor replied sardonically, “we’ll be in in a minute. This episode is almost over.”

Curiously, Yuuri peered into the living room.

“Episode...what? Oh, Viktor, no. I can’t believe you put this on again. Isn’t Yurio too young for this show?”

Viktor turned to Yuri.

“Are you too young for this show?”

Yuri shrugged, too invested in the ending of the episode to make any more effort.

Viktor turned back to Yuuri.

“He says no.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Just get in here and get your pizza. If he gets nightmares from this Viktor, I’m blaming you.”

“You know, you could come in and watch with us. It would be a nice family bonding moment,” Viktor coaxed sweetly.

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. I am not getting sucked into another one of your binge fests. No way,” Yuuri answered.

He loved Viktor with all his heart but sometimes a foot had to be put down.  
\---

Yuri studied the screen with intensity.

“It was the husband,” he said through a mouthful of pizza.

“Nope,” Yuuri replied shortly from his spot on the couch as he pulled another slice from the box on the ottoman.

“What the fuck, what do you mean ‘no’? He totally did it! Those were his prints!”

“I mean no, he’s innocent,” Yuuri responded.

“Yuuri, fingerprints don’t lie. DNA evidence doesn’t lie,” Viktor interejected from his side of the couch.

“Yeah, anyway, if it wasn’t him who was it then,” Yuri badgered. 

“Obviously, it was the mother. She set him up. Besides it’s never the spouse. Anyway pay attention or you’re going to miss it.”

\---

“WHAT!” Yuri bellowed nearly upsetting the pizza box, “How did you call that!? Did you see this one before!? That’s fucking cheating!” 

Yuuri smiled smugly.

“I told you it’s never the spouse. You should listen to your elders,” he replied with a smirk.

“Yuuri, you know I love you but this was the fifth one on a row. Are you sure you maybe didn’t see just a few of them before? Maybe you forgot? I know they play them all the time in America. Maybe when you were in Detroit?” Viktor tried in disbelief.

Yuuri turned to Viktor with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, are you questioning my moral integrity, He Who Cheated at Jenga Last Week?”

“What!? No, Never! And for the one hundredth time I did not shake the table!”

“Yeah, you fucking did. You two deserve each other. Cheaters.” Yuri replied with disgust.

“ANYWAY, How are you not getting more of these right? You’ve seen all of them several times over,” Yuuri asked turning to Viktor.

“Katsudon, are you fucking kidding me? He can’t remember promises he makes five seconds after he makes them. He can’t remember the passcode for the door and you’ve lived here how long? It’s pathetic, really. Not even thirty and already suffering from memory loss,” Yuri said dripping with faux concern. 

Yuuri was stifling a laugh behind his hand when a pillow slammed into the side of Yurio’s head. 

“Okay! That’s enough. Both of you to bed!” he ordered as he got up and started collecting up the pizza box.

“He started it!” Viktor whined as Makkachin got off his lap and followed Yuuri into the kitchen. 

“And you’re the adult,” Yuuri replied, hand on hip, “And just so you know, Yurio, I know you’re sticking your tongue out. Stop taunting Viktor and go to bed!” 

\---

“Viktor. Get up.”

“Mmmph.”

“Viktor. I mean it get up. There’s a weird noise coming from the living room. Makka’s all stirred up.”

“Wha…?” Viktor replied intelligently as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Sure enough, Makkachin was whining and pacing in front of their bedroom door.

“It’s probably just Yurio. Go back to sleep.”

“Hey. No. Get up. If it isn’t Yurio it’s an intruder and if it is Yurio it means he probably got nightmares from your stupid show. C’mon. 

“Okay, okay fine, I’m going. I’m getting up.” 

Viktor stumbled blearily to the door and tried, unsuccessfully, to corral Makkachin out of the way. Cautiously, he peered into the living room as Yuuri peeked past his shoulder and Makka bounded out of the bedroom throwing all caution to the wind and completely destroying any chance for a surprise attack if there happened to be an intruder. Luckily, it didn’t matter; sitting on the couch and bathed in the light of the tv, as a familiar opening song began to play over images of crime scenes, was Yurio. Releasing a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Viktor walked into the room and over to the couch. 

“Yurio, are you alright? You had us worried,” Viktor heard Yuuri ask, trailing behind him. 

“What? Yeah, why?” Yuri replied trying to shove Makka off himself and onto the next seat on the couch.

“You mean you didn’t have nightmares? Wait. Why are you still watching this? It’s three AM. I thought you went to bed hours ago.”

“I did. But I couldn’t sleep. NOT because of nightmares, ugh, I’m not some baby. Jesus. I had to find out if Tucker was gonna drag Stabler into IAB. The rat bastard.”

Yuuri was just about to scold Yuri for staying up late the night before a practice to watch tv when Viktor brushed past him and plopped on the couch.

“Oh, that’s a really good arc! I don’t remember how it ends, though,” he replied enthusiastically.

“Yeah, big surprise there. Now shut up, it’s starting.”

Yuuri threw his hands up in the air. What was even the point? 

“You’re both the worst, ever, I swear. I’m going back to bed. When Coach Yakov makes you stay late for being sloppy in practice tomorrow don’t come crying to me,” he grumbled as he walked back to their bedroom with Makkachin trailing after. 

“You hear that?” Yuri needled at Viktor. “Now you’re in the doghouse.”

“What? No I’m not,” Viktor replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Don’t be so sure!” Yuuri called from the bedroom. 

Yuri smirked as Viktor sprang from the couch and started pleading with Yuuri to let him back in the bedroom.

“No way! I’m kicking you out! You’re a bad influence on our son!” Yuuri called through the door. “Makkachin thinks so, too. He just told me.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. The two idiots. As he watched Viktor pout and huff about betrayal outside the bedroom door he smiled quietly to himself. He didn’t have a fantastic point of reference since it had almost always just been Dedushka and himself but he thought maybe, just maybe, this was what family was like.

Eating pizza together, having stupid arguments, being in each other’s space. 

Obviously he could never let Viktor or Yuuri find out but...maybe living here would be alright, after all.


End file.
